


To See It In Stone

by HedaBeka



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Burial setting, Cemetery, Just wait and see what happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 20:25:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3460865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedaBeka/pseuds/HedaBeka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy Blake has just lost his mother, and as the burial comes to a close he makes a revelation. This is an AU. It will all make sense at the end, so please don't shy away from the lack of an answer at the beginning. I don't want to ruin it for you by explaining the premise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To See It In Stone

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this for an etymology class project where we had to use 50 vocab words in a short story. The main character --and view point-- is of Bellamy Blake. This is an au. It will all make sense at the end, so please don't shy away from the lack of an answer at the beginning. Title is a lyric from "I Drive Your Truck" by Lee Brice.  
> I take REQUESTS on my tumblr account [here.](http://bellarkerescuedme.tumblr.com/)

As the sun peeked through the thick swatch of clouds, a breeze kicked up a bed of leaves and tossed them across the open clearing to settle near the feet of a group of adults. Their fingers clawed at the flaps of their coats as they pinned them against their sides in an attempt to conserve the heat. It was only the first week of fall, but the chill had already settled in over the small city. The air was crisp and bitter, nipping at bare skin and sending shocks through their bodies. Even the coffee that had been handed out was now tepid as it swished in their cups. The flock of people dashed towards their cars in record time. It would be almost comical if it weren't for the lone adolescent that remained in the bitter cold.

The lank boy hovered above a fresh patch of dirt, his knees pressed into the churned earth as his fingers grazed over the freshly carved words on the tomb stone. They ran across the cool stone as they dipped down into the declivity of each letter. Each letter that spelled out his mother's name, spelled out her death. A tear slipped past his pinched eyes and dripped down his cheek, making a path in the dirt on his face. He wasn't normally this grimy, but he had insisted on helping bury his mother's coffin and ignored the protests of his newly appointed foster parents. A scoff slipped free from the boy's lips as he glanced back towards the scrambling herd of people, his eyes rolling as he saw his foster parents had left him behind in their rush to the car. They seemed oblivious to the fact that their new son had been left in the cold. He wasn't all too shocked by their abandonment, no matter how little it was, but he had hoped to of had some company.

A sigh traced over his lips as he knocked his forehead against the cool stone, his body falling slightly as he leaned against it for support. The last few months had been hell for him. He might as well of been pulled from school seeing as he had abandoned his studies to aid his mother while she was on bed rest. The doctors had originally told him that the hard mass that'd invaded her chest was noncarcinogenic, but it hadn't been long before they withdrew that former thought and replaced it was a single dreaded word, cancer. It had been malignant all along, and their indolence had left him with a shorter time with his mother. They had blamed it on a new worker who had unwittingly forgotten to get a second doctor's opinion; they would never admit to having a lapse in judgment. It was hard to admit a folly mistake. He didn't blame them for casting the blame onto another person's shoulders to feel less, but it seemed a bit off that they'd take part in a profession where they were sure to make mistakes and see heart ache when they loathed it so much. It was normal for a person to hate humility, but wasn't it that humble ability to absorb their faults that made them out to be considered mature adults?

He brushed aside the unsavory thoughts as he pressed his cheek against the cool stone, his lips splitting to release a loud breath. This wasn't the first death he had to live through, so why was it so painful to feel the fresh dirt beneath him again. It should've felt like an old friend. He ran a hand down his face as he turned slightly to rest his back against the stone, his eyes lifting to peruse over the brooding clouds. From the looks of the clouds and from the pungent scent of moisture the storm would break soon just like he would break soon. A frown crept along his lips and crinkled his cheeks as he glared at the dirt beneath him. He could feel it all bubbling up against him: the anger, the guilt, the pain. He pressed his face into his hands as he sucked in a long breath. He wasn't sure how he had been able to keep himself intact, but the grief no longer appeared to be tractable as it tore it's way through him.

Tears pooled at the edge of his eyelids and blurred his vision. The world became a water color painting and he could tell it wasn't just because of the water pooling in his eyes. The clouds above had broken and a curtain of rain had begun it's descent over him. It wasn't long before the dirt curled between his fingers was a thick, chunky patch of mud. A grumble escaped his lips as he rose to his feet, the heel of his shoe sliding softly against the ground as he fought for a grip on the slippery surface. _Great. I won't be able to drive tonight without needing to get the interior cleaned up afterward._ He huffed as he lowered his hands to his sides, curling his fingers into fists as he glared down at the clump of muddy land. His look soon softened as he retreated from the grave, no longer seeing fit to stick around when it seemed his mother was being choked out by the storm's wrath.

He took long strides away from the grave as he headed towards the trees at the edge of the clearing. He should've headed towards the cars to get it all over with, but he wasn't looking forward to a scolding from his new foster parents. His feet trudged slightly as he ducked down into the foliage, shaking his head slightly to fling the water out of his hair. He had to admit it probably looked better now that it was rustled and damp. The greased look he had been forced to apply had never fit his face too well. It had made him look sickly and dead, while the rustled tendrils of damp hair gave him a more eerie liveliness that he enjoyed. Not many people understood that, except for the girl who was watching him from the trees further off.

A smile crept along his lips as he ran his eyes over her raven-brown hair. Something about her had always seemed so familiar. Not in the sense of seeing each other around town, but of a similar disposition. Her skin was tanned like his own and her hair was always rumpled like his. If he knew any better he would've guessed they had been from the same kith and kin since she had a funny way of making him feel nostalgic. That was if he hadn't grown up seeing her around his school, at the park, and throughout the neighborhood without any of his known genealogy. She was always there with a broad smile as she raked her fingers through her hair and swayed on her feet as if she were riding on the bow of a boat. He had rarely spoken to her over the years and it had become something of comfort. Even though, he knew very little about her she was always there to comfort him when he was at a loss. She had been there when he had been lost in the store, when he had fallen off his bike, and even there on those first days of school when he struggled to find a familiar head in the class. She had a blissful feel to her presence that seemed to completely raze the complacent grin he had learned to wear when he didn't want others to see his discomfort.

The smile etched further up his face as he trailed towards her. She had her hands twisted behind her back as she tottered on her heels. He knew fairly well that she wasn't shy, and that her coy act was something of a defense mechanism. He had grown used to the way she would teeter on her toes, on the verge of planting herself to the spot or fleeing the scene. She seemed to be constantly asking for permission to stay, and then if she was ignored she would disappear as quickly as she had shown up. He knew very well that her finicky behavior was caused by the numerous occasions to which he had blown her off and he felt his strength wane slightly at the thought. Tears pricked at his eyes as he rose his hand up to swipe at his mouth, trying to wipe away the frown that had embedded itself on his lips. It wasn't long before she had made her way over to him, a similar frown lacing her lips in a downward pout. He lowered his eyes as she came closer, unable to meet her eyes as she scanned them across every crinkled feature and dark shadow.

Her hand came up to rest on his cheek and he found himself involuntarily leaning into her palm. This was what he liked about this girl. They spoke without words, and when they had it was always a short conversation meant to comfort or soothe the other. They would banter back and forth to take the tension away, and it was those facetious conversations that ironically calmed him down. It was almost therapeutic, acting as an antidote for his pathetic fall into dejection. Besides those buoyant conversations that made his plight easier, they mainly spoke in nods, smiles, and frowns. It was oddly comforting, but now as she stood with her hand up to his face and her thumb brushing across his grimy cheek, he couldn't help but wonder why they met up like this. It was rare for them to accompany each other in public, besides when they'd spot each other and give a wave or two. He pulled away slowly and peered down into her wide brown eyes, head tilting slightly as he took in the chilled warmth that bubbled behind them. He couldn't remember the last time they had been this close.

"I should go back to the cars." His voice was quiet, the gruff tint to it loosened up by the sadness that clenched his heart. It had loosened around her, but he knew it would be a little longer before it squeezed too tight and broke him. It was only a matter of time, and to let it take it's time would be detrimental to his health. He choked back a quiet sob as he broke away from the girl, a sad smile creasing his lips as he stepped back towards the clearing. It was clear that she wasn't pleased by his retreat, but she remained silent as he turned and made his way back through the trees.

A tall figure met him outside of the tree line, and a hand was soon placed on his shoulder before drawing him in for a tight hug. His arms hung limp at his sides as he stood frozen in the grip of his foster dad. A good minute passed before the large man released him with a long drawn out sigh. This paternal bonding was fairly new to him, and from the looks of it the man lacked the expertise as well.

"Ready to get back on the road-?" The man seemed to break off with his question, paused as if to imply that he had wanted to add some cheesy nickname such as champ at the end. He held in a sardonic scoff as he turned away from the man, his hand moving up to comb through his wet hair. The last thing he wanted to do was return to their house and continue his life like nothing had happened. He didn't want to forget his mother and immerse himself into a whole new life. This wasn't the cinema, and he had no intentions of letting it become one.

"Do I have any other family?" His eyebrows drew in close as he scrunched his face, turning away to hide his expression and to avoid seeing the man's reaction. He knew the question would baffle the man and possibly render him speechless. Surprisingly, the man was quick to speak as he listed out every name he'd seen in the information given to them. One name stuck out to him: Octavia. His eyebrow quirked up as he turned on his heel, head tilted slightly to the side.

"You didn't know?" The man hardly paused because the blank expression situated on his face was enough to tell him that he hadn't heard of the girl. "Octavia was your sister. Twin, actually. She passed away shortly after you both were born."

Time seemed to slow as he leaned to the side, feet shuffling along the ground as he found himself wandering towards the graves again. The faint call of his foster dad followed him as he stumbled towards the smaller plots of lumped land near the tree line. It was the grave site set apart deliberately so that children could be buried together in the hopes that they would meet each other in the after life. It was there that he crumbled as he spotted the grave that marked his sister's placement. It was atop that very tombstone that the girl he had seen throughout his childhood perched. A thin lined smile crept along her lips as she bowed her head towards the lump of earth. She held her hand out to him and he clung to it, his eyes scraping over hers as she swept tears from her eyes.

"Hey, big brother."


End file.
